


Yet Another Normal Day at Work

by Fiddles



Category: Rover Red: Alone in Apocalypse (Podcast)
Genre: Don't look at me like that we all made our respective OCs for this, Gen, This is only slightly indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:03:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12051888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiddles/pseuds/Fiddles
Summary: *It struck Jason as rather odd that the café of all places had been equipped with high-tech defense mechanisms -- even a pocket tranquilizer gun. But that was before he had to deal with a crowd of caffeine-starved siltheads that had almost managed to dislodge the counter from the floor. As always, Sid had profusely denied their very apparent involvement.





	Yet Another Normal Day at Work

Jason awoke in the usual way that Council employees tended to, which is to say miserably and with a splitting headache. He groaned and brought his hands to his temples, dreading every single moment of consciousness inflicted upon him by the cruel machinations of fate. The lights, as if to further taunt him, flashed alive with an audible and blinding sputter. Jason winced and continued groaning, now in a much louder frequency.

 

Ah yes. Another beautiful day in the Rover Fortress. Unless of course the lights were acting up again, in which case it was probably 3 pm.

 

Clutching his hair, he reached for the clock at his bedside and raised it to eye level. Yet rather than mundane and boring numbers that indicate this abstract concept called time, he was instead greeted with a scrolling sequence of semicolons and closed parentheses that culminated in four big letters.

 

 

> " **V O R E** "

 

A beautiful day indeed.

Expressionless, he placed the small item back on the nightstand and buried his head in his pillow. The lights dimmed and flashed again, though this time Jason was shielded by their assault. Everything was going according to plan. All he needed now was to hold his breath until he passed out and then he'd be asleep again. Ah yes, sleep. Sweet, sweet joyous sleep. Oh how wonderful it felt to not exist for a few consecutive hours. Once, Jason had slept for a whole 5 of them without interruptions (a personal record) and it had been the greatest birthday gift he'd ever received. But alas, his next birthday was several months away and the only other thing he had to look forward to was dying before it came up.

 

The telltale sound of swearing employees scuttling outside his quarters signaled that it was probably 8pm after all. Which, for Jason, meant that he needed to be at work in approximately ….. _2 hours ago_.

A small, metallic clanking slowly filled the room as the ventilation pipes began to cool. It was the sort of sound you could only recreate with a flexible 6 inch sheet of refined titanium and a shower of rocks. Jason pulled the pillow up to his ears but the clanking only grew more annoying with each second.

 

“Quiet, you silting bastard.” he murmured from underneath the sheets. His brain wasn’t so much half-awake as it was half-lucid. A few precious moments of silence later, the noise started again.

 

Ting. Ting. Ting. _Ting_.

 

In a hazy fit, he jumped from the bed and hurled the alarm clock at a wall, which then bounced back and caught him straight in the toes.

 

" **_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!_ ** "

  


A truly truly beautiful day.

After a few minutes of screeching and grasping his foot in pain, Jason made a mental note to requisition a watch instead. At the very least, those would merely break when mindlessly thrown across the room. Walking to the bathroom was a minor ordeal considering he'd already managed to injure himself 3 minutes into the day, but in his mind there was nothing like a good facewash to start the day. Which is why Jason was doubly upset when his sink tap poured out a steady, red stream of viscous liquid rather than water. The boy stared at the small pool of crimson bubbling before him and closed the tap. Now was probably not a good time to take a shower.

 

As the throbbing migraine settled on his head like a coiling snake, Jason tried blinking the burning sensation out of his eyes. When that failed he simply gave his mirror a dejected look and walked to the desk. The flatscreen device laying there lit up as he waved it on. A few blinking lights and electronic beeps indicated that he had received several messages during the last 5 hours  (only 3 of which he'd actually spent asleep). He skimmed through most of them, cursing whenever yet another electronic high pitch lanced at his senses.

Eventually he reached one titled "DANGER: BLOOD" sent by the ever-hated Pope Braddock. It also explained very little as to why his sink was busy recreating its favourite famine dinner festivities. He tapped the screen and strained his eyes to read the rest of the message.

.

.

.

**“BLOOD! BLOOD! IT IS EVERYWHERE. IN EVERY PIPE. IN EVERY PERSON. BLOOD! THE PLUMBER WARNED US OF THIS DAY BUT WE DID NOT LISTEN. BLOOD! THE DAY HAS COME AND WE HAVE BEEN LEFT WANTING. WE WERE NOT PREPARED. BLOOD! I PRAY THAT IT IS NOT OUR OWN. BLOOD!”**

.

.

.

 

Jason blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Maybe the chronic insomnia had finally given way to dementia, or maybe the foundations were leaking carbon monoxide again. The letters remained fixed on-screen, like rows of monoliths crushing the remains of his dwindling sanity. The message continued:

 

"Thankfully it would seem potable water is still untainted, but we cannot know for how much longer. All maintenance and engineering staff are to report immediately to HR so that they may be assigned the appropriate tasks to combat this-"

 

The screen switched off as Jason prodded the button on its side. Water calamities notwithstanding, this was shaping up to be a fairly uneventful day at the office. Though since nobody could afford to wash, a significantly more odorous one. A couple more employees ran frantically outside the door.

 

Jason sighed and tried rubbing his temples some more, which was no help whatsoever. He very clumsily and arduously got into his work outfit (which currently consisted of any assortment of clothes involving a hair net) and walked outside. The door was supposed to close behind him automatically, but it had long since broken so he'd just stuck a sign on it with the words "please don't vandalize my private space" written in italicized cursive. He'd also recently included the addendum of "Trespassers will be treated to a year’s worth of bad coffee". It was less intimidating than he’d like.

 

Clutching helplessly at his frying brain cells, Jason headed towards the elevator while several panicking individuals were gleefully testing his tolerance of loud and obnoxious footstep noises. He side-eyed them with boundless contempt but they hardly even noticed. Staggering to a halt, he pressed a button on an adjacent wall and a door slid open.

Three equally unremarkable figures greeted him, all speaking at the same time. "Hallo Jason" they said in perfect sync. He swore those bastards must have been practicing crap like this when no one else was looking. "How are you feeling today?" they continued. The man and two women wore standard RC uniforms, with the notable addition of a red name tag on each of them that showcased their newly assigned name to the world.

 

"I take it no one has managed to talk Sid out of doing this" Jason said as he walked in. One of the women shrugged, which seemed a lot harder to accomplish while wearing a three-person sweater. "It is what it is Jason, we try to look on the bright side". The man used his free hand to press a button on a nearby panel "To the cafe?". Jason nodded and shielded his eyes from the lights in the ceiling. Even the droning elevator music felt like a hellish torture. One of the three figures treated him to a look of reserved worry "Are you feeling alright bud?". The boy took a few moments to consider this when he noticed that the room had whimsically begun to spin. "No Cerberus" he concluded, closing his eyes shut "I most assuredly am not alright". The three figures shuffled their feet and sighed sympathetically. Jason tried forcing an eyelid open to look at their expressions but thought better of it.

 

"So" said Jason, trying and failing to make polite conversation "still stuck together?". A collection of snorts and chuckles briefly filled the room "You know it Jase".

 

"At least the itching isn't as bad anymore" he offered "Plus if you want I could cut you all free, Sid has _veeeery_ little power over me". The three figures considered this. "It is what it is".

 

There was an awkward pause. "Right."

 

Two dull, piano-like tones indicated that they'd reached floor 5 and the elevator lurched to a halt. Jason thanked the stars for this small charity. Waving vaguely in the direction of Cerberus, he took a few steps forward and walked face-first into a wall. The others cackled.

" _ow_ " he whimpered, rubbing his nose mournfully and fighting the urge to collapse into the fetal position.

 

"Wow, you must really be out of it today" said the bald Cerberus, still wheezing for breath. Jason rolled his eyes from behind his eyelids and stomped angrily straight into a different wall. He could already tell this was gonna be one of those days. The shorter, more punk-looking Cerberus  reeled from laughter and grabbed onto a side bar for support "Silt Jase, how did you manage to hit 2 out of 3 walls on your way _OUT_ of the elevator???"

 

A small crowd began to gather around them to see what all the fuss was about. Jason knew this because his eyes were finally open and one was already feeling sore from the impact. "Alright alright, everyone scamper out of my way right now or the next ‘ _tasteless and oversalted pile of silt_ ’ I make will be laced with cyanide and stale paprika so **_GIT!!_ ** ". Cerberus continued laughing with no telling as to when they'd all stop. "Careful not to slip and break your neck on your way to the kitchen!" said the man haughtily. Jason opened his mouth for a comeback but none presented themselves to him. He opted to just storm off instead. One of these days he was going to roast those three real good, just they wait.

 

Stumbling onwards he headed for the cafe, where a small, unorderly line of people had begun to form. Presumably his tardiness had driven them to anarchy because they were clawing at the walls and chanting "Food! Food! FOOD!". Jason sighed and unlocked the staff backdoor which had been positioned safely out of sight from the main entrance for this very scenario. He made sure to shut it as quietly as possible before snapping all 16 locks in place. Years of job experience taught him that the best way to interact with demanding customers was from behind robust, 5-inch thick, steel-plated walls. As the mob outside grew louder, Jason busied himself getting the kitchen ready and preparing everyone's morning snacks before they burned down the carpentry. He had the foresight of making a few dozen sandwiches last night, just in case yet another world-shattering calamity took place before 2pm. Tensions were already high with Leah's recent Rover escapades and guiding the prophesized speaker of unnatural origins through a wasteland of death led to an awful lot of stress eating. As always, rumours concerning this week’s session (for there was always a new ballot proposal in the air) had left everyone quite on edge. Word was, Sid had a new suggestion to bring to the table and the thought alone caused waves of mass panic.

 

After checking to see if none of the ovens and refrigerators hadn't inexplicably broken down in the middle of the night (a less-than-uncommon occurrence), Jason arranged the sandwiches in several neat rows behind the glass display case. Normally he got one or two snobs asking for exotic nonsense like "cereal" or "famine toast" but he was in no mood to indulge anyone today. A quick sandwich or two had more than enough calories to last 6 hours of worktime and if anyone argued otherwise, well, that's what the high-grade mustard laxative under the counter was for.

 

The chanting grew louder from the now-shaking titanium shutters. If he wanted, Jason could flip a switch that blasted everyone with several hundred, calming volts of electricity ***** , but HR wouldn't be too happy about that. Still, it was a very tempting option.

  


With a tinge of resentment, Jason raised the shutters and put up the "Open" sign on the counter. As the chanting gave way to an uproar of hungry demands, he wondered whether Leah had a free space in her tag team and if she'd agree to let him come along. Perhaps they'd save Apocalypse together, or better yet he'd find a new, less silty job. The council employees clambered at the counter for food and Jason bitterly offered them the first sandwich.

**Author's Note:**

> *It struck Jason as rather odd that the café of all places had been equipped with high-tech defense mechanisms -- even a pocket tranquilizer gun. But that was before he had to deal with a crowd of caffeine-starved siltheads that had almost managed to dislodge the counter from the floor. As always, Sid had profusely denied their very apparent involvement.


End file.
